The Secret Lives of Mickey Mouse
by Frisky Wallabee
Summary: AU. A serious, what if moment last night or, rather, this morning. What if they worked at Disney? This is their story. Javid, Blush, Spittery
1. These Gloves Can't Make Fists

**A/N: **Obviously, everything belongs to Disney. Sadly, some of the war stories they share have actually happened to people I know who work at Disney. Oh, and if your childhood dreams are dashed by reading this, my apologies. Also, apologies for formatting. This was originally written on LJ.

--

David Jacobs frowned at himself in the break room mirror. He looked way too young to be twenty-two. He stuck his tongue out at his reflection and wagged it back and forth. He crossed his eyes and started head-banging, keeping his tongue clenched between his teeth.

"Enjoying yourself?" a muffled voice asked.

David turned around to be confronted with Goofy. He sucked his tongue back in and crossed his arms over his chest.

"What are you doing still in costume?" he asked.

"My fucking attendant isn't here yet and I'm fucking burning up," Goofy said in a New York accent that wasn't at all his voice. "Get this thing off of me."

David reached up and pried off the large head gingerly as to not damage it. A boy with shaggy dark blonde hair shook his sweaty locks free and took a deep breath.

"I hate this job," he complained as David set to work helping him remove the rest of the costume. "This fucking dad today. He starts giving me a hard time because, apparently, Goofy doesn't _have_ anyone to have cartoon nookie with. How gross is that? Of course, he had a half-naked Jessica Rabbit on his gaudy Hawaiian shirt. I wanted to punch him so badly. But these gloves don't make fists."

David shook his head as he got the rest of the Goofy costume off of his best friend, roommate and occasional boyfriend. "Be glad you're in a costume, Jack. You wouldn't last a day in attractions. Being face to face with people."

Jack grabbed a bottle of Evian that may or may not have been his. "What happened today?"

"Some idiot tourists came in and asked me if we had food," he rolled his eyes. "Food, Jack. At GMR. I told them, no, it wasn't a Chinese restaurant. As if Dorothy's shoes in the waiting area weren't enough of a clue. So they complain to my supervisor but not that I was sniping at them. Oh, no. They complained that I didn't give them food."

Jack laughed and knocked back about half the bottle of water before his attendant came in and whisked the costume away without a word to either of the boys.

"Bully for you," he remarked. "Although sometimes I really hate the Dads. They are such DKiAs..."

David nodded. He had his fair share of Disney Know it All dads at the Great Movie Ride, complaining to their children that the REAL Chinese theater wasn't in Florida. Assholes. After college, coming to Florida to work at Disney seemed like the logical progression. After being baked throughout college, David's friends had readily agreed to his decree. Now he was using his Ivy League education to get accosted by a mobster in a theme park. He already pined for the dank, Manhattan winters in his chilly apartment. Even his parents in the picture wasn't too bad a thought. Not surprisingly, they hadn't handled his coming out well.

"Ugh!" a girl in light blue pajama pants, pink Kangaroos and a blue Tinkerbell tank top stomped into the break room. "I hate breakfasts and day parade. And what am I stuck doing? Breakfasts and day parade."

"Hello to you too, Sarah," Jack smirked.

She gave Jack a 'don't mess with me' look. David shook his head.

"What happened?" he asked his sister.

Sarah unwound her sweaty hair from its bun and did her best to fluff it up.

"I was Minnie this morning, right?" she ranted to her reflection. "And I was jokingly flirting with a dad and his wife was like 'hey, what would Mickey say?' and I was like pointing to the proverbial ring finger and laughing and shrugging and all that and she's like 'Oh, so you're living in sin.' And I'm just like 'what the hell?' mentally and walk off. And in parade today, I was Robin Hood and I got my tail caught around one of the stupid brooms that was way, WAY off cue."

"Sorry about that," a guy muttered, walking to the bathroom.

"At least you don't work in pedo paradise," a new voice remarked darkly.

Two boys in matching yellow button-ups stalking in angrily.

"Mush, Blink," Jack greeted them happily from his bottle of water.

"That's mine," Mush said flatly, pointing to the bottle of water.

"Consider it a sacrifice to the Disney gods," Jack drained it.

Mush cast him a filthy look and set to taking off his uniform. He and Blink worked at the Honey I Shrunk the Kids! playground. Or, HISK, as it was commonly known around cast members and the families of.

"Speaking of pedophiles, guess who I was today," Specs, another one of their friends from New York, muttered, stepping into the break room. "My Pinocchio went missing so I was stuck as a Gepedofile today."

Gepedofile was the nickname cast members had given anyone who "was good friends with" Geppetto who was lacking a Pinocchio. Specs had apparently had that misfortune today. And he was rubbing his eyes horribly because he had to wear contacts with his costume.

"That's nothing," Skittery stormed in, already out of his costume. "Try having people tell you to sit and dance around all day. Actually, I kind of enjoyed it."

Specs hit his boyfriend playfully. "You would."

Bumlets, their final cast member friend, stepped from the bathroom, looking pissed.

"At least you all don't have to talk," he snapped. "They made me sing the beginning song from Aladdin today. Sing. I barely remembered all the words. And I have it stuck in my head now."

He frowned and slumped on the ground. "I dislike being a face character greatly. Everyone's all over you..."

"Thems the breaks," Jack said. "You just happen to bear an uncanny resemblance to our Genie-blessed friend."

Bumlets gave him a very un-Aladdin like hand gesture.

"Do shut up," he said in a polished, British accent.

Jack decided at that moment to return it and then switch to the British, two-fingered salute.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, switching between the two. "I'm bilingual!"

David shook his head, wondering time and time again what possessed him to hop into bed with Jack on regular intervals. He stared at his abs through his soaked wife beater. Oh yeah.

"At least we have tonight off," Mush said, ever the optimist.

"Definitely!" Blink agreed. "That never happens. Let's get wasted!"

Sarah pressed her hands against her cheeks. "What would Mickey say?"

"You're living in sin anyway," David remarked. "Might as well get your fill."

"Do you have any Chinese food?" Jack draped an arm around his shoulders.

"Fuck up," David shoved him. "Now let's go. I'm bored."

"To get wasted!" Blink crowed.

"Aye aye!" Skittery and Specs yelled in unison.

"_Vivamos el _inebriation!" Bumlets added in Spanglish.

David shook his head as he and his sweaty friends prepared for their night of predictable debauchery. Oh, what would Walt think?


	2. Spectro Inebriation

Blink sighed and crossed his arms over Donald's face on his chest. Yes, despite their aversion to their jobs, it didn't stop all of them from using their discounts on merchandise or picking up the odd shirt from property control. The reason for his essential poutiness was the fact that going out and getting drunk in a bar near their apartment building by UCF (in which they were the only non-college students) was his idea but he had, in fact, lost their game of paper-scissors-rock and had to be the designated driver. So now it was official. First He blinded him, now He wouldn't allow him to get wasted. God must've surely hated him.  
Blink surveyed the scene. Mush, who could never hold his liquor, was fast asleep on his shoulder, grinning about something but then again, Mush always smiled in his sleep. Jack more than often joked that he could become a porn star with that, ahem, talent.  
Sarah was just as bad at holding her liquor, however, she had had even less than Mush and was asleep on the bar, her face resting in her folded arms.  
Skittery and Specs had given up on drinking about twenty minutes ago. Specs had decided that a public venue was the perfect spot for a make out session and had hopped on Skittery's lap. The two hadn't come up for air since.  
David, Jack and Bumlets were the only three holding strong. Granted, David was far more conservative with his alcohol consumption, which kind of contributed to the fact that he wasn't passed out as his sister was. The same, however, could not be said for the former Goofy and Aladdin. They had had about three chugging contests that night. Jack had won all three and chalked it up to his Irish heritage. Currently, they were singing one of the most loathed songs amongst post-pubescents, parents, cast members and regular adults alike.

"It's a small world after all! It's a small world after all! It's a small world after all! It's a small, small world!" they shouted in unison, gaining the attention of half of the people in the bar.

Jack let out a cackle of laughter and tipped his bottle to his lips. Blink decided to end this.

"Oh, wow," he said in mock surprise, looking at his watch. "It's late. I have to book it home because I have to get to HISK early tomorrow."

A blatant lie. He usually just hung around in the break room watching old footage of Disney's Star of the Day before he went out in the afternoon. Thankfully, Mush wasn't awake to debunk his story.

"Alright," David said, pulling out his wallet and tossing two twenties on the bar. The bartender took them but not without casting a dirty look at Jack and Bumlets.

Blink eased Mush off of him and wrapped his arm around his shoulders. He kicked the leg of Skittery's stool.

"You two sober?" he queried.

"I'm sober," Specs remarked.

Blink reached over and stuck his hand into Bumlets's back pocket. Too drunk to remember his name, the boy obliged.

"Drive them home," he handed the keys to Specs. "I'll take Mush and Sarah."

That decided, the group shakily made their way out of the bar.

--

David, who was mostly sober by that point in time, dragged Jack into their apartment and flopped him onto the bed only to have him slide off. It was at that moment that Jack decided that all he wanted to do was kick his legs about and roll around on the floor, allowing his shirt to ride up.

"Come on," he said, tapping his foot and nearly falling over in the process. Okay, maybe he wasn't entirely sober.

Much to his surprise, Jack grabbed the side of the bed and hoisted himself up.

"Davey," he mewled. "C'mere."

He shook his head. "No, Jack. We're broken up, remember? Last week you said you were bored?"

'I ain't bored no more," he smiled mischievously. "I want you, Davey."

"You're drunk."

"You're high!"

He sighed. "Jack, no I'm not and stop quoting _Arrested Development_."

The show was a favorite of David's that he often made Jack watch with him when they were "on again." He knew that Jack secretly liked it even though he said it was too smart for him.

"I may be drunk," Jack said, the arm supporting him started to shake. "But I am undrunk enough to know that I want you. Now."

David weighed his options. He could push Jack on the bed and wait until he passed out to crawl in himself or stop being a prudish teenager and hop in bed with him. He chose the latter.

"Alright, Jack," he rolled his eyes. "I'm coming."

"Not yet," Jack cackled like a little kid. "But you will be."

Rolling his eyes again, David made it over to him in more or less of a straight line. Deciding that it'd be better that Jack remain upright for the initial foreplay, he put his arms around him. Kissing Jack was never the same. Sometimes he wondered if he practiced different techniques while they were broken up since each time was different. The only thing they had in common was that it was like watching the fireworks show at Disney. You know, actual good ones that weren't the local rednecks in the surrounding Central Florida towns, shooting bottle rockets into their beer bottles. It was like a big flower blooming in their chest, exploding with might and amazement. Okay, enough upright.  
David pushed Jack onto the bed and he took it from there. Jack may have been drunk but he wasn't going to let himself be submissive because of it. It was an ego thing.

"Wow," David giggled, still not entirely sober. "Definitely not a small world down there."

"You better believe it!" Jack crowed.

--

Sarah awoke sometime in the middle of the night. She was on the couch but, because of her sole consumption of two beers before her teeth went numb and she fell asleep, she was lucky enough not to have a hangover. The same, however, could not be said for her roommate. Judging by the snores, he had been brought into the bedroom. Deciding to check on him to make sure he didn't choke on his own vomit, Sarah made her way into the room. Bumlets was on his stomach, rump sticking high in the air like a little kid. Whoever had put him in bed--Blink most likely--knew the right position to do so.  
She yawned and decided to take in the Olympian God-to-life body of her roommate topped off by that gorgeous, thick dark hair that drew him comparisons with the very character he portrayed and his chiseled-yet-soft face. Not that she was in love with him although it wouldn't be the first time Sarah had fallen for a gay guy. Through college, she had lusted after Jack until finding out that he was seeing her brother. And that wasn't even the first time. In high school, she dated a guy who claimed blind that his name was Spot who lived in the Williamsburg section of Brooklyn. He was hot and oozed bad boy vibes. Then she found him in bed with some Italian guy fresh from Gamblers Anonymous, or so Spot said. Then there was the lonesome rocker with anger issues, Oscar DeLancey. As it turned out, he was buggering Skittery (this was, of course, pre Skittery meeting Specs). After that, she hooked up with a hot blonde boy who said that he wanted to be called Dutchy and nothing else. They dated for a bit until she found out that he was sleeping with Specs on the side. After that, and her prolonged crush on Jack, Sarah had been disheartened enough to take a break from dating. She had convinced herself that she was just a beacon for gay boys wanting to investigate heterosexual life.  
But with Bumlets, it was different. She didn't feel any sexual impulses towards him or anything. She just plain liked him. Which, naturally, would surely prove catastrophic.

--

"You. Stop. Up. Now," Jack bemoaned, rolling onto his stomach.

David shook his head as he got changed after his shower.

"Hangover kicking in yet?" he asked with a devilish grin.

"No talkie. But if you must know, yes," however, defying his hangover, Jack stood up and stretched his arms. "Luckily, I don't have to go in until Spectro tonight."

"Brill," David rolled his eyes and buttoned his pants as Jack named the popular nighttime parade at Disney.

"Unlike you!" he cheered. "I bet you gotta hangover."

"I do," he rubbed his head to prove his point. "But I requested today off. Les is in town."

"No way!" Jack exclaimed. "You didn't tell me that. I love that little fucker!"

"I'd prefer it if you didn't call my brother a little fucker."

Jack waved his hand before jumping out of bed. Moaning, he grabbed his head.

"Owww," he moaned. "Cold shower. Now."

David shook his head but before he would allow Jack to wash up--he _was_, in fact, quite sticky from the night before--there was something he needed to address.

"Jack?" he queried. "Are we back together or was that drunken fucking?"

He paused. "Well, what do you want it to be?"

"The former."

"Then we're back together," he rolled his eyes. "Now let me shower so we can go see the little fu--Les."

David shook his head but he couldn't keep the smile from springing onto his face.


End file.
